Unconscionable Silliness
by Lord Jeram
Summary: Various ideas I may never write more of - or perhaps I will! Who knows, right?
1. A Very Potter Crossover Special

**A Very Potter Crossover Special**

* * *

The stones had a terrible smell to them and the whole castle seemed like it was about to fall apart. The brats running about spitting out their weird spells wouldn't stop chattering like idiots. The stairways seemed to be secretly plotting to kill you at any moment.

But the worst damn thing was that he was stuck in this baby prepubescent little boy's body without any of his normal powers. No regeneration and no damn claws. It was like walking around in a pile of unsteady bones and meat - he felt like he was about to fall over at any moment.

At least the grub was decent. He pushed some larger kid aside forcefully, grabbing a seat at the large table. The big kid scowled, but the big ones always came down just as easy as anyone else.

"Got a problem, bub?" Colin scowled.

Ron walked over to Harry and Hermione and sat down next to them. "Have you noticed that Colin's been acting a bit odd lately?"

"Shut your piehole, Red," Hermione told him conversationally, and lit a large cigar. "Say, you look like you know the score around here. Any booze in this crazy backwards shack?" She puffed on the cigar and blew the smoke in Ron's face.

"Gleah!" Ron waved his hands in front of his face. "Hermione, what's wrong with you?"

"Hermoonie, eh?" She looked down at herself and nodded. "Odd name for a meatbag chick, but I've heard worse."

Ron blinked and turned to Harry, who was looking around the room with an eerie smile. "Harry, are you okay? You look weird too."

"Oh, I'm quite well, Ron," Harry answered with a sort of upper class accent. "I appreciate your concern, but I assure that all is in hand. Miss Granger - that is, Hermione, is merely attempting to acclimate to a new, very different environment."

Hermione laughed and smacked Harry on the back. "You're all right, four eyes!"

A sudden and very concerned voice interrupted their conversation. "Is that a cigarette?" It was Professor Snape, looking actually worried. "You know, children, smoking is bad for you."

"For you, maybe," Hermione said, chewing on the end of her cigar. "Hey, maybe you'd know where a girl could get something to drink around here? I had to steal this stogie from some old man."

Professor Snape gasped. "Drinking alcoholic beverages? That's not for kids - only for adults, and then just in moderation, never before driving."

"Eh, I've driven drunk boatloads of times," Hermione snorted and tapped out her cigar in Harry's pumpkin juice. "Only killed a few people. The way I see it, that's coming out ahead. Hermoonie all the way."

"It's pronounced 'Hermione'," Harry told the girl gently. "And you really ought to try to speak with the appropriate accent."

"Sorry about tha' guvnah," Hermione replied with a truly atrocious accent. "Be quite a shame not to 'ave a spot of whiskey, ain't it?"

Ron scratched his nose. "Right, okay. I think it's time for class."

Harry brightened. "Ah, yes! Transfiguration magic lessons. I am looking forward to it."

"Say," Professor Snape said, rubbing his chin. "I think I'm a teacher here. Do you think I have any classes today?"

"You're teaching the NEWT class," Harry informed him. "But I'm sure you can skip it, if you must."

Snape shook his head. "No, no. It's my responsibility, so I'll figure it out." He began to walk away, and then paused. "Say, you wouldn't know what I'm teaching, do you?"

"Potions," answered Harry. "And I am certain your office has many books on the subject."

With a smile that seemed insanely out his place on his countenance, Snape nodded and ran off.

* * *

Professor McGonagall walked back and forth in front the classroom, a very off-putting and actually lusty grin on her face as she looked over the students. She eyed Susan Bones and whistled, then leaned over the Hufflepuff's desk.

"Do I make you horny baby?" The Professor grinned. "Bit of bird on bird action, maybe? I've got the equipment, might as well put it to good use, baby!"

* * *

_Post note: Yeah... so this petered out as I reached that final scene there. For some reason it just got too silly to even try to write more of. But have you cottoned on to who's who?_

_A bit of spoiler:_

_Colin is Wolverine from X-Men_

_Hermione is Bender from Futurama_

_Harry is Professor X from X-Men_

_Snape is Kermit the Frog from the Muppets_

_McGonagall is Austin Powers from the movie of the same name_

_My other planned inclusions? Scrooge McDuck (Duck Tales), Zach Morris (Saved By The Bell), Eric Cartman (South Park), Indiana Jones, James Bond, Jigglypuff (Pokemon), Hit Girl (Kick Ass), Lisa Simpson, Batman, Neo (The Matrix), Mario, and various undetermined Final Fantasy, Star Wars, Star Trek, Disney, and Street Fighter characters. Oh, and a very special cameo by the Dude (The Big Lebowski):_

* * *

"So I think I'm going crazy," Ron finally finished his story and frowned at the Headmaster. "Sir, are you even listening to me?"

Dumbledore blew out a puff of purple smoke. "Man, these magic men make the craziest weed."


	2. Mr Hyde's Wild Ride

Dumbledore always had a plan in reserve just in case everything got buggered up.

Including the one he never truly wanted to implement, the one which he would die before allowing. But as he sat on the Tower, watching the spy pause just a bit too long, Dumbledore realized that Snape could not be trusted to complete his task. Without that assurance, Harry would never prevail. There was only one possible path remaining. Only one person Albus could truly trust to do what must be done.

Sacrifices had to be made, after all. Dumbledore acknowledged that he would be quite happy not to see the events he would set into motion. Sometimes, death can be a gift.

And one word came from his mouth before the end, a word that was different in another place, a different world. One final joke against all the world.

"_Freedom_."

Albus felt a small amount of amusement from the confounded looks on the Death Eaters' faces. It was quite clear that they had no idea what he was talking about. Excellent. They would find out soon enough. And with the last of his strength, Dumbledore threw himself off the roof.

Over a thousand kilometers away, a fail-safe was overridden and a series of wards collapsed without warning. And one lonely door of a prison cell unlocked with a click, alerting its sole occupant to the sudden change in captivity.

He had no wand yet, but that was only temporary. The guards were scampering about, trying to discover what had gone wrong. But they would be far too late.

Grindelwald was free.

* * *

**Mr. Hyde's Wild Ride**  
**Chapter 1: Nothing's That Easy**

* * *

Harry awoke with a start to the sound of faint screams and shouts. Dismissing it at first as someone's late night television viewing, Harry quickly turned over to resume his interrupted rest. But something seemed odd, so Harry slowly sat up and listened for a moment. It sounded like the shouting was coming from outside, not inside the house. And it seemed awfully warm all of a sudden, even for a summer's evening.

Harry put on his glasses so he could investigate the odd, green light coming from outside. He yawned his way downstairs, and stepped outside, still in the pajamas. There were people gathered around in the street, neighbors mostly by the looks of them, although Harry wasn't that familiar with them even after so many years living nearby. And they all seemed to be staring behind him.

Getting a terrible feeling of foreboding, Harry turned to see what everyone was so focused on. Little Whinging was on fire. It seemed half the neighborhood was ablaze, everywhere from Wisteria Walk to Privet Drive. A sudden fear snapped over Harry; had Mrs. Figg been caught in the fires? There was something odd about the fires, though. They seemed an almost greenish color in appearance, seeming awfully familiar for some reason.

But then a far more serious problem asserted itself when the house nearby, Number 3, suddenly began to succumb to the expanding firestorm. Harry could see the fire service trying to push back the blaze down the street, but they seemed to be having no luck at all. And as Harry watching the fire for a moment, transfixed, it struck him how much it reminded him of magic. With a start, Harry realized where he had seen such oddly colored flames before: the Floo.

But wasn't that supposed to be harmless? This terrifying fire was blackening and breaking house after house. If it was indeed something magical, shouldn't someone have seen something? Weren't there supposed to be guards from the Order keeping an eye out?

Harry scanned the yard for anyone he knew from the Order, or hoping if they were in disguise that they'd notice him. But no one from the magical world seemed anywhere to be found. Odd. If it _was _some sort of magical accident, where were the Ministry workers that handled such things? Then Harry noticed something odd on the ground; a pair of upright shoes balancing in a way that shouldn't be possible. Unless...

Almost tripping over himself in haste, Harry rushed over and instantly saw what had happened. The ankles of feet of someone were clearly visible, but nothing else - the obvious indication of an Invisibility Cloak. Very gingerly, Harry slowly pulled off the Cloak to reveal the prone and unmoving form of Tonks lying on the grass.

"Oh, no," Harry felt for a heartbeat, a breath, any sign of life. "Damn it, Tonks, don't do this to me!" Harry had no training in healing someone in such dire straights, nor did he know any of the Muggle ways to handle such things. As Harry brushed back her hair, he uncovered a terrible wound, as if something had been broken over her head. Harry looked around for anything suspicious and saw a brick nearby, only a few paces or so. Indeed, there was a conspicuous shininess to the brick, and what certainly appeared to be dried blood.

Harry collapsed on the ground, hardly knowing what to do or say. "Poor Remus," he murmured to himself. The man would be devastated. Harry needed to do something, to alert the Order, if they didn't already know. But how could he get a message to them quickly?

A sudden tearing sound interrupted Harry's thoughts, and a wave of heat washed over him. He turned to see, to his horror, that the fire had spread to the roof of Number 4. In a panic, Harry raced over to the house. He had to rescue his precious magical possessions, his wand, his Cloak... _Hedwig!_ She was still in her cage!

Harry moved inside the house, wincing at the almost overwhelming heat. Smoke had already begun to permeate the air of the house, and Harry suddenly wished he had his wand - the Bubble-Head Charm could be potentially lifesaving.

He began to walk up the stairs, but a terrible creaking sound stopped Harry in his tracks.

Harry licked his lips in worry. He focused his mind, hoping this would work, willing it with every fiber of his being. "_Accio Wand_!" A brief second of inhaled air and a terrible fear that it was too late, then Harry's beloved wand flew through the air and Harry caught it easily, although it had already become quite warm. Thankfully Harry had left his bedroom door open - not paying attention at the time had actually helped for once.

Now feeling slightly better, Harry quickly cast the Bubble-Head Charm, and the smoke was suddenly no longer an issue. But if only there was a way to protect against the heat. Harry was running out of time. He had once summoned a Firebolt from Hogwarts to the stands of the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

This couldn't be that much harder, could it?

"_Accio Hedwig's Cage_!" A beat later, and the cage flew into Harry's grateful arms. He unlocked the cage and Hedwig shrieked something in a fearful tone. Harry needed to get the owl out of the there immediately, but more magic... he had already received so many warnings. Then again, he had already used it twice, so did it really matter anymore?

"Damn it, fine! _Reducto!" _The front door splintered into countless pieces, leaving a clear hole. "Go, Hedwig, get out of here! We'll meet up later when it's safe." The owl screeched again and took flight through the ruined entryway. Harry looked back up the stairs and saw the walls begin to blacken and char. His things may already have been destroyed, but perhaps they had survived.

"_Accio My Trunk_!" Harry focused all his will on the spell, and hoped it would work. And then he suddenly realized his mistake and jumped to the side, just as the trunk flew down the stairs and smashed into the front wall of the house. A terrible creaking noise echoed through the entire dwelling.

Harry quickly got to his feet and levitated the trunk. If any Muggles saw it - well, what did it matter? The entire neighborhood was in what was probably magical flames anyhow. Harry Banished his trunk out of the wall and into the front lawn. He needed somewhere safe to go. The Death Eaters might find him at any any moment.

Grimmauld Place was probably safe, but it was unlikely anyone would be there to hear the message. The next best place was probably the Burrow. Several members of the Order ought to be there at the very least. Harry gripped his trunk, hoping it would travel with him correctly, and Apparated to the Weasley home. He glanced down and breathed out in relief - the trunk had indeed stayed with him during the trip. Hopefully something hadn't been left behind - that could happen with sudden Apparition.

Harry pulled his trunk over to the front door and knocked loudly. After a few moments, there were the sounds of commotion inside the house, and Harry heard movement behind the door.

"Who is it?" Mrs. Weasley's voice called out.

"It's Harry," replied the tired traveler. "Just so you know it's really me, the first time I came here the Twins and Ron rescued me in the early morning, then they were punished with de-gnoming the yard."

Several unlocking sounds were heard and the door flung open. Mrs. Weasley instantly grabbed Harry into a fierce hug and then looked him over.

"Oh, dear, Harry what happened? You weren't supposed to come here until your birthday."

Behind her, most of the other Weasleys and Fleur had congregated to see what was going on.

"It was pretty bad," said Harry in a scratchy voice. Apparently he had inhaled a bit of the smoke after all.

Ginny wrinkled her nose as Harry pulled his trunk into the house, closing the door behind him.

"You smell odd," she said. "Have you been cooking something?"

Harry sighed. "The Dursleys' house caught on fire. I barely made it out of there. I don't think they made it out okay - although perhaps they left me to burn alive, I wouldn't put it past them."

Ron frowned and grumbled, "lousy bloody Muggles."

"That's horrible!" Mrs. Weasley gasped. "Nobody could stop the fire?"

Harry shook his head. "Something was odd about the fire. This may sound strange, but it was exactly the same color as the Floo."

Everyone else seemed taken aback.

"That shouldn't be possible," Mr. Weasley said, recovering first. "Floo fire is carefully designed not to be able to harm or destroy. It couldn't have set fire to anything, unless..." He then looked quite troubled.

"Dad, you don't think it might just be an accident?" Bill asked.

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "I don't see how that could even happen. The protections... "

Fleur scowled. "Zere ees anozzer possibilitie, of course. Sabotage."

"Why would anyone sabotage the Floo?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

Bill looked at him with an odd expression. "Isn't it obvious, Harry? To get to you. It nearly worked too, didn't it? You said it was almost successful."

"I suppose that is theoretically possible," Mr. Weasley allowed. "Still, perhaps I should head to the Ministry and check into things with the Department of Magical Transportation."

"Wait," Harry interjected. "Before you go anywhere, we need to get someone from the Order. Tonks was guarding there, and she got really badly hurt. She wasn't breathing."

"Oh no!" Ginny gasped.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ron managed to say, patting his friend on the shoulder.

Harry scowled. "She might be able to survive, that's why someone else needs to go over there."

"Let me take care of it," Mr. Weasley told him. "I'll alert Moody immediately." He summoned a Patronus and told it, "Meet me at HQ immediately." He nodded to Harry and then patted his wife on the shoulder. "I'll be back as soon as I can, dear."

Molly nodded and Arthur Disapparated away.

Molly looked conflicted, then her face cleared and she turned to Harry. "In the meantime," she said sternly. "You need to get some sleep. And the same goes for the rest of you lot."

"But Mum," Fred protested. "We're in the Order too - most of us, anyway."

"Never mind that," the Weasley matriarch sniffed. "If something comes up, we'll be sure to tell you. Now off to bed, all of you. And that includes you as well," she said, pointing at Bill and Fleur. "You still have a wedding coming up soon."

"Come on, Harry," Ron said encouragingly. "You need your sleep."

Harry nodded, although he wasn't certain he'd be able to fall asleep.

Sure enough, Harry lay in the darkness, unable to relax, while Ron slumbered easily. Harry envied his friend's ability to sleep so easily, when worries and random thoughts kept Harry from even relaxing. Where had the fire come from? An accident, or something more sinister? If it was the latter, Voldemort was certainly to blame. And what about Tonks?

Harry sighed softly. This was exactly the sort of circumstance Dumbledore would easily get to the bottom of with ease. But the Headmaster was gone, murdered by a traitorous bastard. Snape acting untrustworthy? Although as Harry thought about it, something seemed odd about his memory of that dark night. Harry could clearly see the figure of Snape in his memory, ugly face curled into a typical snarl. And poor Dumbledore, perched over the edge of the tower. And then he fell, as Harry sat frozen, unable to move or speak. But how exactly had Snape killed the Headmaster?

For some reason, that part seemed unclear in Harry's memories. If only he could still talk to the old man, even for a minute, just to ask his advice.

_Harry..._

Harry blinked. For a moment, he thought he had heard Dumbledore's voice, but that was impossible.

_Harry Potter, are you there?_

Harry sat up with a start. That was not in his head - it was muffled, quiet - but certainly not a phantom noise. But where was it coming from?

_Harry, please answer me..._

Suddenly, Harry realized the source of the voice - the broken mirror of Sirius! Apparently, it still worked, although Harry wasn't sure how. He carefully moved out of bed, although Ron was not likely to wake even with the ghoul's loud rattling, so it was probably an unnecessary precaution. Harry pulled his bag under the covers, and lit his wand so he could find the mirror. He fumbled around in his bag, and after a minute or so, he managed to find the mirror shard, wrapped in a protective cloth.

Harry carefully unwrapped the cloth, and his breath suddenly caught in his throat. That eye... seemed so familiar.

"Who is it?" Harry whispered.

"Harry, you are there after all!" The voice sounded so much like Dumbledore. "Thank Merlin you still had the mirror. We must talk immediately!"

Something didn't seem quite right. Harry had been to Dumbledore's funeral, had seen the still form in the casket. There was no knowing for a certainty who this person truly was - an impostor was all too likely.

"Identify yourself," hissed Harry slightly angrily.

"Why, isn't it obvious? It is I, of course, Albus."

"Albus Dumbledore was murdered," Harry said, trying to remain calm.

"All an elaborate hoax, my boy. All part of the plan."

"Well..." Harry paused, thinking about this response. Faking his death did seem like something Dumbledore might try, but it was still safer to be absolutely positive. "If you really are him, then you can answer about something only we would know."

No answer came for a few seconds, then finally came a reply. "Yes, of course, ask whatever you like."

There were really so many questions to choose from - the difficulty was finding just the right one. Then again, might as well go for the obvious, but something nobody else could know.

"What was split seven times?" Harry felt a bit proud of this question. Annoyingly vague, but easy to answer if he actually was the Headmaster.

After a few moments of silence, the man on the other side sighed heavily. "It seems you've seen through my bluff, Mr. Potter. I am not Albus. I am actually his brother, Aberforth. You've seen me several times before, at my pub, the Hog's Head. I believe you had a meeting with quite a few Hogwarts students there several years ago."

Hmm... well, now Harry felt a bit conflicted. This was a lot more likely than a resurrected Albus, but Harry didn't know if he could even trust Aberforth - if that's who it really was at the other end of the mirror. Although now that he thought about it, the face did seem familiar.

"If it's really you, where did you get the mirror?"

"Mundungus Fletcher was selling it; I recognized what sort of object it was immediately, although I didn't know you were at the other end until you accidentally used it a few days ago."

Harry scowled. Fletcher. That was unfortunately all too easy to believe. "Fine, that's possible," Harry allowed. "But why pretend to be Albus?"

"I thought you wouldn't come otherwise," Aberforth explained. "The truth is that I am in grave danger, and I need your immediate assistance."

Harry sighed. "Well, if that's true, if I _did_ come by, you wouldn't have any issue with me coming with support?"

Aberforth paused. "No, of course not," he said finally. "Who are you coming with?"

"Don't worry about that," Harry retorted. "I'm still not sure if I'm actually coming - are you at the pub?"

"I beg of you to help," Aberforth pleaded. "Albus would have wanted this from you."

"That's enough," Harry said in annoyance. "I might come, I might not. And if I do, certainly not alone, do you understand?"

"I do," responded Aberforth. "Thank you for your help."

Harry sighed and put away the mirror, feeling conflicted. If Aberforth truly was in trouble, and needed help... But on the other hand, he _had_ lied about his identity once already. And if the story about Fletcher was true, then anyone could've gotten their hands on the mirror. Harry felt like he needed some advice from someone experienced and trustworthy. But whom? Mr. Weasley was probably still gone, and Harry didn't feel comfortable talking to Molly about it. Ron and the Twins were trustworthy, of course, but if there was some sort of danger involved...

And then the answer came to him: Bill and Fleur! They had actually graduated from magical schools, unlike the Twins (not that really would stop Fred and George from doing well for themselves). And Harry had a feeling they would be willing to help.

Harry quietly crept out of the room and down the stairs to where he saw Bill and Fleur walk into earlier. And if he remembered incorrectly - well, he could just say he was mistaken. Harry knocked on the door with a thumping sound, loud enough to be heard inside the room, but muffled in the hallway.

After a minute, Harry heard some shuffling noises inside the room, and the door was opened by a very tired-looking Bill. When he saw Harry, Bill blinked then looked nervous.

"Harry," he whispered. "What's wrong? Is there something you forgot to tell us?"

"Actually, there is something I need your help with," Harry explained. "Um, do you think we could talk privately?"

"Hold on." Bill turned and said something that Harry couldn't make out. After an inaudible reply, Bill turned back and nodded. "Yeah, come on in, Harry. We were just talking, anyway."

Harry walked in to see Fleur sitting on a bed in her nightclothes. Gulping a bit, Harry was glad for the dark lighting so they couldn't see his slightly burning face.

"What ees it 'Arry?" Fleur asked in a concerned voice.

"I was contacted by Dumbledore's brother," Harry explained. "He used a two-way mirror that used to belong to Sirius. He said he was in danger, but I'm worried it might be a trap."

Bill frowned and leaned against the wall. "Right, and probably you're also worried he might actually be in danger?"

Harry nodded. "Exactly. It's all a bit suspicious, if you ask me, but what if he really does need help?"

"Dumbledore 'as a brozzer?" Fleur asked. "I did not know zis."

"Yeah, I didn't either," Harry told her with a shrug. "But apparently he's the owner of the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade."

Bill nodded. "Yeah, that much is true. I think his name is Aberforth, right?"

"That's how he introduced himself," agreed Harry. "Is he trustworthy?"

"I don't really know him," Bill admitted. "I've been to the pub enough times to recognize his face, but it's not like we're friends. You said he used a mirror to contact you?"

Harry scowled. "Yeah, I didn't like that part of the story at all. He said that Fletcher had stolen it from Grimmauld Place and was selling it on the street or something."

Bill snorted. "I can believe that. Never really trusted the sneaky blighter."

"So what do we do zen?" Fleur looked quite worried. "Ees 'e expecting you?"

"I didn't exactly say I'd come, only that I might," said Harry. "Plus I also told him I probably wouldn't come alone."

"Good idea," Bill nodded in reply. "And maybe we can Disillusion one of us so we have someone hidden. Although Disillusionment isn't quite foolproof."

"Oh, hold on a second!" Harry grinned. "I've got a fantastic Invisibility Cloak. Been in the family for years, and it works great. I'll go get it." He moved quickly out of the room and back to Ron's room as quietly as he could manage it. It didn't take long to grab the Cloak out of his trunk, as he knew precisely where it was stashed.

He walked back into Bill and Fleur's room half draped with the Cloak, grinning widely. "Check it out," he said and pulled off the Cloak to show Bill. "Pretty nice, right?"

Bill's eyes widened in surprise. "It's more than nice, Harry. I've never seen a Cloak this fine. And did you say it had been in the family for years?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, it belonged to my dad, at least. Maybe more than than, although that much I don't know."

Bill shook his head ruefully. "That's more than impressive, actually. An Invisibility Cloak rarely lasts longer than a few years. One of the reasons they're so rare."

"Well, maybe Dumbledore added new spells to it?" Harry reasoned.

"With Dumbledore, anything's possible," Bill admitted. "Although I've never heard of anything like that being done before and lasting so long. Still, it definitely works perfectly for us. So I can find under it when we head over there."

Fleur sniffed audibly. "You speak as eef I am not coming as well, Bill! Obviously I must help 'Arry as well."

Bill frowned in annoyance, then sighed. "Well, I know I'm not going to win this one. Will you at least wear the Cloak, just in case?"

"Very well," Fleur said a bit airily and grabbed the Cloak. "Mon dieu! It ees certainly a magnificent zing!"

"Yeah, so here's the plan," Bill said, rubbing his hands together. "We'll get dressed and meet you downstairs, all right Harry? Grab anything you think you might need, including that mirror, just in case."

Harry nodded and smiled. "Right, sounds good, Bill." A few minutes later, they stood in the quiet and darkened Weasley kitchen.

"Harry, you can Apparate, right?"

"Yeah, passed the tests too," Harry replied with a grin.

Bill breathed in deeply. "Okay, then let's get ready. Fleur, can you put on the Cloak - you know where we're going?"

Fleur rolled her eyes. "I know where is zis pub, Bill." She gracefully fluttered out the Cloak up and over herself, vanishing completely from view.

Bill whistled admiringly at the sight. "Wow, that's exceptional - I can't make anything out at all!" He turned to Harry. "You ready?"

"I am," Harry said, making sure to hold on tightly to his wand.

"Okay, when we get there, Fleur, just tap me on the shoulder, but otherwise keep quiet, okay?" After some sort of unspoken reply, Bill Disapparated from the room with a soft popping sound, and Harry followed quickly behind, clearly focusing on the street right outside the Hog's Head pub.

They appeared in the dark streets of Hogsmeade, with only faint illumination from the streetlights. Bill looked around then nodded to Harry.

"Well, it looks like we're _all_ here," Bill said softly. "So lead the way. Carefully!"

Harry walked over to the pub with Bill following closely behind, and opened the door. Inside, the room was brightly lit, and Aberforth sat across the room, staring back blankly at them.

Once they had all entered the room, Harry looked around, wand raised and eyes watching for anything out of the ordinary. But the pub seemed quite empty.

"Okay," Harry turned to the old bartender. "So explain yourself! What's the danger?"

"_Avada Kedavra_!" The sound was almost too soft to hear, and Harry whirled around in confusion. He had been watching carefully, so carefully. Aberforth hadn't moved at all, Harry was sure of it. And then Harry noticed Bill falling, slowly, in a bizarre sort of slow fashion. How bizarre. It didn't make any sense... Harry's heart began beating and he began to feel a sense of disconnection from everything around him.

And then Harry heard a horrible sound, a scream of fury and anguish, something Harry had never heard before. It pierced through the layers of confusion and he blinked, then almost fell to the ground himself.

Something flew at Aberforth, a flash of light. And suddenly Aberforth was dead, his head in ruins.

"_Stupefy_."

Harry leaped aside to avoid the spell, but it hadn't been aimed at him. Fleur fell to the ground with audible sound, and then Harry noticed that the Cloak had moved a bit, revealing her somewhat. Moving quickly, he ran in front of her with his wand out, eyes watching the room for any movement.

"Show yourself!" Harry yelled, the adrenaline bursting through him, preventing him from fully processing what had happened.

"Very vell..." There was a shimmer in the air, and an unfamiliar old man appeared. He had a ragged, emaciated appearance, and he seemed about the oldest of any wizards Harry had ever seen. The old man had an ugly smirk on his face, and his eyes glittered with something unpleasant.

"Perhaps you should drop your vand, Mister Potter," the old man said in an odd, strangled voice.

Harry snorted. "Not a chance. Who the bloody hell are you? What's going on? Did Voldemort send you?"

The old man barked out a grating laugh. "Hardly. Albus never mentioned me, his old friend und companion?"

"No," Harry retorted. "I think I'd remember him telling him about his old, ugly friend."

The old man laughed again. "I suppose so. You haff probably heard of me - my name is Gellert Grindelwald."

A sudden chill ran down Harry's back. "That's not true," he managed to say. "Dumbledore killed Grindelwald! Everyone knows that!"

"Not exactly," corrected the old man. "He defeated me in combat, zat is true. But he left me alive, just in case I might be needed. And I haff been needed after all. I haff come to fulfill his final request."

"And what might that be?" Harry spat. "Take over the Magical world and plunge into a war again?"

Grindelwald laughed in a raspy voice. "Perhaps later. But no, he asked me to make sure zis man called 'Volzemort', or Thomas Riddle, is destroyed. So that is vat I am here to do."

"But..." Harry trailed off in confusion. "If you're trying to kill Riddle, then why did you do all this? What did you do with Aberforth?"

"A simple Imperius, of course. I need zis information, and Abe vuz ze only one I knew from so many years ago. Under ze influence, he told me zat Harry Potter vuz ze key to defeating Riddle. So I had to bring you here."

"If you had good intentions, you could've just asked for help!" Harry yelled angrily. His eyes narrowed. "Wait, are you responsible for that fire?"

Grindelwald nodded. "Indeed. I needed you out of zat protection, but you moved a bit too fast and zere vere too many people around to be safe. I had found zat security hole with ze Floo decades ago, and zey haff never fixed it. Easy enough to do for me."

"You still haven't answered my question," Harry told him, trying to calm down. "This hardly seems like the actions of a good person."

"Vell I am not a good person," Grindelwald admitted. "At least not from your limited perspective. But I vork for ze Greater Good. Albus understood zis, he knew zat sometimes only my methods would vork. So explain to me zen: how are you ze key to defeating Riddle?"

Harry snorted in derision. "Like I'm going to tell you that."

"I could force you," Grindelwald said softly. "It vud be quite easy."

"The Imperius doesn't work on me," Harry said with a smirk. "Go ahead, try it."

Grindelwald raised his wand, then slowly lowered it. "In fact, I believe you. It is a rare gift, but I can believe you haff it. Zen I suppose ve are at an impasse, ya?"

"I don't suppose we can somehow work together on this?" Harry asked, not feeling too confident about a good response.

Suddenly Grindelwald thrust out his wand and horrible booming sound echoed from around him, knocking Harry against the wall. He fell to the floor with a thud, his wand scattering across the floor.

"No longer quite ze impasse, ja?" Grindelwald grinned, looking horrible with a set of rotted teeth. "Now you vill listen to me. You haff two choices. Eizzer you tell me your secrets, or I kill zis girl under zat Invisibility Cloak."

Harry spat at the floor and wrenched himself to his feet, blocking Grindelwald's line of fire to the fallen Fleur. "I don't think so. You'll have to kill me first, and I don't think you can do that if you want to truly kill Voldemort."

Grindelwald scowled. "Vhy does everyone haff to make zings so difficult for me? First Riddle, zen you?"

Something about this piqued Harry's curiosity. "What do you mean by that?" Harry demanded. "What did Riddle do to you?"

"He refused to die!" Grindelwald spat angrily. "And I could not figure out vhy! And if you vill not explain it to me..." A sudden, terrible grin, came over his face. He pulled out a small ring and tossed it to Harry, who caught it instinctively. It was a small black ring in the shape of black dragon eating its own tail.

"What is this?"

"Our compromise," Grindelwald said with a disconcerting smile. "You put on zis ring, and zen I give you ze spell of power. Togezzer, you use it to destroy Riddle yourself, if you can. And I will spare ze girl's life."

Harry rolled the ring over in his hand, wondering to himself. "How can I trust you?"

"I give you my word! I swear by my magic that I vill not harm her!" A flash of light flared up, and suddenly Harry _knew_ that the old man would keep the promise - that he would have to keep it.

And then there was the idea... a way to destroy Riddle? It seemed a dangerous plan. But Harry looked down at the still form of Fleur, and the dead bodies of Bill Weasley and Aberforth Dumbledore. No one else would have to die if he managed to kill Riddle. And maybe this had been Dumbledore's plan all along, just in case? One that he hoped never to trigger, but was forced when death came upon him?

Harry sighed and nodded. "All right, I'll do it. But first promise me you won't harm my friends, and that this will actually help me defeat Voldemort."

Grindelwald nodded with a grin. "Agreed. I swear by my magic that I vill not harm your friends and zat zis plan vill help you to destroy Riddle." The same flash lit up the room, and Harry felt appeased.

"So how does this work?" Harry asked.

"First I cast the spell of power, zen you put on ze ring. Simple, ja?"

Harry nodded. "Right, let's do it."

Grindelwald waved his wand in some sort of bizarre but oddly graceful manner, then he spoke. The words made no sense to Harry - they were hardly words at all. Instead, he heard them behind his eyes, in flashes of sound that was silent but echoed inside his head. And then came the instruction.

_Kill Thomas Riddle_

Well, Harry could easily agree with that. And suddenly Harry's mind snapped into place and an intense focus coalesced his thoughts like a bolt of lightning. Kill Riddle. At all costs.

"The ring!" Grindelwald yelled.

Ah, yes. The ring. Harry slipped on the black ring, feeling oddly disconnected from the room around him - just as he had when Bill had been killed him. But now, Harry realized he didn't care about Bill's death - it didn't matter, because killing Riddle was all that mattered. There would be time enough to mourn later.

Suddenly a blinding pain shot through Harry's hand, and then a wave of agony swept over his entire body. But in a flash, it was gone, leaving only a dull ache in his hand, easily ignored.

Harry considered his options, pondered his choices carefully. The Horcruxes would need to be destroyed, but he wasn't sure where they all were... although several ideas began to occur to him. There were all pretty good, but then Harry heard something in the back of his head, like an infant crying. No, that wasn't it. A man, whining piteously like a child.

Ah, Harry realized after a moment precisely who the voice belong to - Riddle. It seemed that their connection was still quite active indeed. Harry focused on the voice, and suddenly Harry could _hear_ all of Riddle's thoughts in a matter of speaking. The so-called Dark Lord was worried about something, but Harry didn't care about that.

_What about the Horcruxes?_

The word echoed back and forth, and then it was Voldemort thinking that word.

Riddle was concerned about his Horcruxes and their safety. Surely Grindelwald hadn't known - he couldn't have, otherwise he wouldn't have tried the killing Curse. No, the Horcruxes were quite safe indeed. The ring, certainly - no one except perhaps Dumbledore could know, and he was dead. The locket was even more secure, and the diary and cup were held by his loyal followers. Hmm, then again, they could easily be tortured into submission by Grindelwald, so perhaps neither was that secure. Riddle would have to move them. Nagini was obviously safe by his side, and the one at Hogwarts no one at all had any idea about. No one else knew of the secret room.

Harry pulled away from the thoughts, a plan in mind. Hogwarts first, of course. He could run there in a few minutes. And then the rest. Riddle's mind was an open book - so even if he did move the Horcruxes, that wouldn't stop Harry from finding them. Killing Riddle suddenly seemed easier than ever.

Harry moved silently to exit the pub, moving past Fleur's body quickly.

"Wait!" Grindelwald called out. "Vere are you going?"

"Out," Harry said shortly. "I will return if I need you. Stay here."

Grindelwald blinked in surprise, then began to laugh. "Ja, I vill stay."

But Harry had already left the pub.

* * *

**End of Chapter 1**

* * *

_Post Note: A lot of problems with this one - needs a serious rewrite if I ever want to continue it. If someone else is interested in writing more, I can send you my plans for the rest of the story. This was from a challenge to write a Dark Harry Potter fic, but the various twists got lost along the way._


	3. Harry the CreepAncient Servants

_A few random ideas:_

* * *

**_HARRY POTTER AND THE ANCIENT SERVANT_**

_Harry Potter has been ignorant of many common areas of knowledge in the Wizarding World, but a new problem has arisen that no one has expected. The ancient practice of servitude, binding one family to another, has long been a barely-mentioned part of Magical Society, always there, but never mentioned. When Neville mistakenly brings up his position of fiefdom to the Potters to an ignorant Harry, the wheels of change begin to turn. Soon, an uproar in the Wizarding community - Harry Potter has been talking about what NO ONE talks about._

_Now other families want to get in on exploiting this ancient practice, but who owns who? A convoluted web of deceit and murder leads Harry to search for answers, and rescue his friends from lifelong slavery. But will his skewed view of the world help him - or sentence his friends to an early grave?_

* * *

**_HARRY POTTER THE CREEP_**

She looked a bit chilly when I saw her. I recognized her from my various classes for five years. But I especially remember her Sorting. That's when I creepily fell for her.

I mainly used the Invisibility Cloak to watch her change.  
It was a miracle I even passed first year. I only killed Quirrell because I accidentally jerked off in his face. Power of love, who knew?

Second year, I thought Daphne had been captured in the Chamber. When I realized I had saved Ginny, I was... okay, I wouldn't have been happy if she had died, I suppose. But that was three hours of time I missed watching Daphne reading on her bed!

I hated Ginny from that point on. I only dated her to slip her a slow-acting poison.

When The Ball came around in 4th year, I knew who to ask. But for some reason she was already going with some Durmstrang guy. He had an 'accident'. I Polyjuiced Parvati to look like Daphne and I didn't need to pretend I wanted to hit that. Parvati never even realized, and gave it up quick. Unfortunately, she seemed to think I actually liked her. She gave that up when I Obvliated her and gave her a love potion for her twin sister. That was a fun week!

Especially because I had slipped Padma a love potion for Lavender, Lavender to Cho, Cho to Luna, Luna to Hermione, and Hermione to Hogwarts: A History.

Actually that last one was difficult to dispel.

Finally when Voldemort literally had killed everyone else, Daphne finally kissed me. It was... actually pretty bad, really. Guess she couldn't live up to the fantasy. Oh well! Better luck next time, I'm off to France!

The End

Epilogue:

"Gabrielle, will you please..."

"Oui, Harry! Whatever you want me to do!"

"Oh... Um, no. That's kinda creepy, when I actually see it. Um, right. Okay, see you later, I'm off to America to find a random teenage who likes 'sparkly guys'."

She'll be the love of my life, I'm sure of it.


	4. Harvey Pinker and the Alchemist's Rock

**HARVEY PINKER AND THE ALCHEMIST'S ROCK**

* * *

_Normally Harry Potter is raised as a wizard in a world filled with unaware Muggles, where all magic is hidden from those silly Muggles. But __**WHAT IF**__ instead the world was filled with mostly wizards, but the Muggles are the ones who are hiding their advanced technology (cell phones, hamburgers, and the like) from those unknowing wizards and witches. In this world, a young orphaned Harvey Pinker discovers that unlike his adopted family of wizards (which he never quite fit into), he is... a Muggle!_

_This idea came about when I thought of Hagrid saying: "Yer a Muggle, Harry!" It seemed funny to me at the time, and I even wrote a terrible bit of it:_

* * *

Snodgrass Pinklefliks and his lovely wife Emeldine lived together on the perfectly ridiculous street of Gambles 'n Buttons, and that was just how they liked it. Their neighbors were all wizards and witches (none of that dreadful "normal" business), and they all resided in the magical village of Flooz, a lovely community just off the southern coast of England. Emeldine had just given birth to their first child, a boy with the reasonable name of Poodley. His proud parents were quite proud, and they just knew Poodley would grow up to be a fine, upstanding wizard.

Snodgrass was coming home early over the next few weeks, so he could spend more time with his loving family. But one day when young Poodley was only five months old, something strange happened. Snodgrass had decided to take a walk during his lunch break, enjoying the fresh air and bright sun of the spring day, when he heard the oddest sound. It was a kind of beeping, but very tinny, like a mouse was trying hum loudly. He whirled to look for the source of the sound when saw a VERY oddly dressed man (wearing no robes at all, merely a shirt and pants!) talking to himself, while holding what appeared to be some noisy device next to his ear.

"Can you believe it, Bartram?" The man practically yelled. "The-One-Who-Is is no more! We've won!"

Snodgrass frowned disapprovingly; some people had no manners.

* * *

_It was at this point (after about 5 minutes of writing) I realized that the whole thing was a Simply Terrible Idea, and I ceased writing it completely. It was only much later that I considered an actually good (relatively speaking) alternative: what if Harry (our Harry, that is) found himself on this backwards, insane world? How the hell would he cope?_


	5. Harry the Spy

Sometimes all it takes is a very small spark to start a fire - or a very small death to start a war.

For Harry Potter, that death was not the death of his parents, the presumably wonderful people he had never known. It was not even Cedric Diggory, the fairly decent boy who had been killed right in front of him. And it wasn't even the death of his godfather, Sirius Black, although perhaps it would better to consider that the fuel that ignited. The spark came months earlier, when Harry's theoretical father figure Arthur Weasley had been grievously injured and still in a coma.

But at the time, Harry had just been relieved that the Weasley patriarch had not perished at the fangs of a monstrous serpent.

The death of Sirius left Harry confused and barely functional - walking around in a daze, unsure of how he should really feel. He didn't exactly feel depressed, although a part of him felt a sense of loss for the erstwhile link to his parents.

After a day of walking around aimlessly, Harry sat down for dinner in the Great Hall, his friends seeming to sense his mood, as they made sure not to ask him anything, only talking lightly about irrelevant topics.

Amidst the talking students, someone stood out as different. Harry looked over at another quiet person at the Gryffindor table - Neville Longbottom, who sat silently picking at his food.

Neville, who had lost his parents as completely as Harry, although in a different manner. Lost his parents to Death Eaters - to Barty Crouch Jr, who was now without a soul and just a vegetable. And to the Lestranges - to Bellatrix, who had killed Sirius. Another connection between them, Harry suddenly realized. They both needed the same thing: revenge.

Harry blinked and looked at his other friends. Hermione, seriously damaged by a dark spell cast by another Death Eater, Dolohov. And Ron - who had nearly lost his father to a bloody snake.

They all needed vengeance. Harry once felt that he wished he could spare his friends the terrible drama and pain of dealing with Voldemort. But it was far too late for that. They were all damaged, and although not all casualties were on their side, there had already been far too many for Harry's tastes.

Suddenly Dumbledore's recent words echoed in Harry's head - he could not help but hear the words of the blasted prophecy over and over in his head. _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches_. _The Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord_.

Perhaps it was just words, spoken by a nutty old bat, or perhaps it was something else - a call to arms.

Harry stood up suddenly from the table and his friends looked at him in surprise.

"All of you, meet me in the Room in ten minutes," he said. "And bring the whole gang from the Ministry. We need to talk."

With that, Harry left his unfinished meal behind and walked off to his dorm room. He had a few things to retrieve from his room, just in case.

And despite all the seriousness and despite his confident stride, Harry couldn't help but smile.

But perhaps that's because laughing out loud right then would seem just a bit odd.

* * *

_Post note: Writing a spy story would be a bit difficult. I'd want to come up with some cool ideas. This is just a sort of cool starting off point._


	6. Harry the Overly Competent Prankster

WARNING NOTE: This story is unconscionably silly.

* * *

This story evolved from my distaste of so-called "pranks" in various and sundry Harry Potter fics. It seems that no one is able to come up with any pranks that are interesting at all. They tend to be the same:

1) Embarrassing people by forcing them to sing some arbitrary and anachronistic Muggle song  
2) Changing the colors of things  
3) Chortling  
4) "Pup"

Need I remind everyone what the Marauders, so-called pranksters, actually did?

1) Created an essentially infallible map of everyone that is in Hogwarts  
2) Tricked Snape into almost being eaten by a werewolf

What did the Weasley Twins do?

1) They probably were caught in the Forbidden Forest  
2) Used a lot of Zonko's  
3) Created items that make you fake-sick or giant birds  
4) U-NO-POO

What has Harry ever done?

* * *

_The Esteemed Lord Jeram Productions Presents:  
A Harry Potter Fanfiction Tale of Very Little Note Entitled:_

Harry Potter the Overly Competent Prankster

* * *

_Prologue – In Which The Stage Is Set Prematurely_

* * *

The canonical elements of the fifth book of the Harry Potter series, that is, _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_, occur as originally envisioned. Except for one, very minor change: Harry Potter has some sort of brain damage. And thus Harry's perceptions are indefinitely altered from what initially had been.

* * *

_Chapter One – In Which Harry Receives Incorrect Information from a Premonition Due To Poorly Prepared Foodstuffs_

The students chattered and gossiped, excited about starting a new year at Hogwarts.

Albus Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat, instantly quieting the room, as all awaited to hear his yearly wisdom and arbitrary remunerations of annual announcements. Suddenly the Headmaster snarled and his face filled with furious anger and great vengeance.

"I'd like to introduce you all to this year's new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," Headmaster Dumbledore yelled angrily at the shocked Hogwarts students. "Presenting a truly foolish man: Julius Underhill!"

The door to the Great Hall slammed open, and a figure stepped inside, stepping forward purposefully. As the man walked forward purposefully, the students could not help but stare, as the new Professor had bright green hair. Incidentally, Professor Underhill also had a terrible limp, but no one had bothered to notice that, as the green hair was a bit glaring.

"Students!" Underhill held up his hands and began to turn in a circle, looking over all the tables packed with hungry students. "Allow me to present myself to you! I am Professor Julius Ignatius Malefactorus Stupendous Underhiiiii!" The Professor suddenly tripped over his own feet, which had not rotated as quickly as the rest of him. Instantly, the entire Hall burst into hysterical laughter, including the amused Professors.

McGonagall was snickering into her hat, while Snape literally laughed his own head off. Hagrid was laughing so hard, he accidentally breathed in Flitwick. And Dumbledore... well, the esteemed Headmaster was silently laughing, tears running down his cheeks, his nose erupting in a volley of phlegm and mucus, while he slapped Sprout on the back so hard her back snapped. Which didn't stop the Herbology Professor from laughing, of course.

Professor Underhill rose to his feet, his face bright red with embarrassment. "How DARE you? I shall show you how powerful I can be!" He whipped out his wand and pointed it at the Ravenclaw table. "_Accio _smarts!" Suddenly the studious students of Rowena's house began drooling, bumping their heads together and furrowing their brows in a futile attempt to understand the situation. Underhill grinned and turned to the Slytherins.

"_Accio _pureblood!" Within seconds, the Professor was drenched in the wrenched life fluid of the House of Snakes. Only the two mudbloods of Slytherin were left alive, and they had vomited so vehemently at the sight of the horrible corpses of their housemates, they had literally thrown up their insides.

Underhill snarled and turned next to the Gryffindors. "_Accio _common sense!" Of course, nothing happened, and Underhill realized his mistake.

"Oh, sorry about that. _Accio _self-confidence!" After a pause, the Lions all started to cry, sobbing about their awful, awful fate. More than a few transfigured their clothes and hair to a proper "emo black", because no one understood them. Of course, once one student (Euan Abercrombie, 2nd year) slit his wrists just to FEEL SOMETHING, the other Gryffindors quickly followed suit.

Now Dumbledore stood up giddily. "Ooh, ooh, let me try," he said incongruously and turned to Hufflepuff. "_Accio _follicles!" An odd wind passed over the 'puff table, and the now completely bald students looked at each other and cheered. Because they liked things shaved.

"I've got an idea!" Susan "Bone-Dry" Bones said excitedly, rubbing her heads over her smooth cranium. "Let's go play with the Ravenclaws!"

All the Hufflepuffs agreed this was a fantastic idea, as now they could finally claim to be intellectually superior to the Ravenclaws. So the Hufflepuffs ended up marrying the Ravenclaws in mass wedding officiated by a sobbing and crippled Sprout, while Flitwick assisted from inside Hagrid's nose.

The new Professor, one young Julius Underhill, ended up slipping on an enormous puddle of blood in the Great Hall, and cracking his neck. He died instantly, albeit in an incredible amount of ironic pain. Ironic, because he died how he lived - slipping on giant pools of blood.

And Dumbledore? He gathered all the Gryiffindor and Slytherin corpses and had a "wedding" of his own. Finally the two houses would get along.

Oh, and where was Harry Potter all this time? He was sleeping late and missed the whole damn thing.

**OR WAS HE?**

* * *

_Chapter Two – In Which Harry Concocts an Ill-Advised Plan_

Harry awoke with a start in the Gryffindor dorms. "Damn. That was a trippy dream. Guess I shouldn't have eaten all those roasted eels last night for dinner. But wait..."

Harry rubbed his chin thoughtfully and considered his bizarre dream. "Perhaps it's a message from Sirius! Perhaps it's a message that the best way to avenge his memory is through an escalating series of ridiculous pranks, each more zany than the last. Yes, that's Precisely what he would have wanted."

Harry began to cackle quite disconcertingly. "The Marauders will live again! I'll even use a code name that matches my Animagus form – someone who can regrow hair overnight after getting a haircut. I shall be called..."

* * *

_Chapter Three – In Which Harry Decides On a Inappropriate Nickname_

"Sir GrowsAlot!" Harry declared in triumph.

"And now," Harry steepled his fingers evilly. "For my first sinister and hilarious prank. It'll be great."

* * *

_Chapter Four – In Which Harry Devises A Plan Involving Ludicrous Amounts Of Love Potionings_

The plan was simple: Merely dose several vivacious young ladies of Hogwarts with copious amounts of Amortentia targeted at various other students. And then Harry would sit back and watch in glee.

Of course, he couldn't be caught doing anything, so a bit of sneakery was needed to ensure that Fred and George would take the fall for the chicanery. He would merely leave a bit of "evidence" where it would be discovered by the Professors.

The next morning, Harry sat back in his chair, chortling with ill-concealed glee. His classmates looked at him oddly, but then again, his godfather had recently died, so perhaps he was just mourning? Harry was all too willing to exploit their misapprehensions.

Harry giggled as he watched several people in the Great Hall drink their morning pumpkin juice. Any second now…

"Enjoying that pumpkin juice, Ron?" Harry slyly inquired to his red-haired chum.

"Hmmph?" Ron asked, mouth filled with pumpkin juice.

"Oh, nothing," Harry replied with a wicked grin. "Nothing at all."

There was a bit of a commotion nearby down the table, and Harry turned to watch his fun unfold.

Lavender Brown had gotten off the bench and was kneeling on the floor next to Parvati.

"Mwa?" Ron questioned.

"Parvati, I can't keep silent anymore," Lavender shouted with passion to a red-faced Parvati. "You need to know the truth. I love you! And I've only just now realized how foolish I've been these past few years."

Ron spit out his pumpkin juice impressively. "What?" He sputtered.

"I knew it!" Hermione muttered to herself.

Parvati took a sip of her pumpkin juice to settle her nerves. Her eyes widened and she jumped on the table, scattering plates and dishes. "Lavender," Parvati proclaimed with such volume, the entire Hall could hear easily. "Although I care deeply for you, I would be remiss if I didn't follow my own heart as well. There is someone here I love deeply in every possible way."

Parvati jumped off the Gryffindor table, knocking a few people aside, and dashed over to the Ravenclaw table. She grabbed her sister by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.

"This is nutters," Ron said, taking another gulp of his juice.

"Padma, you know it's always been you!" Parvati shouted. "We've been together all this time, haven't we?"

"N-no!" Padma protested awkwardly. "It's not like that, Parvati! We don't have that kind of relationship!"

"Then what can you say about all the times we 'experimented' together? Did that mean nothing at all when we lay naked together?"

Ron spat out his pumpkin juice again.

Padma gently disengaged the frantic hands of her twin from her robes. "I'm sorry, Parvati dear, you know you will always be precious to me. But I cannot sit idly by while my own true love is alone, hurting so deeply!"

Parvati stepped back, clutching her robes in shock.

Padma stood and smiled widely.

"Quick, Hermione!" Ron urged his bookish friend. "Pass me Parvati's pumpkin juice right now! I need it!"

"Well, all right Ron," Hermione said with a shrug, passing Parvati's abandoned juice to him.

Ron quickly drank a healthy mouthful.

"Cho Chang!" Padma leapt across the table into the surprised older girl's lap and turned to face her. "Cho, I love you." With a quick motion, Padma grabbed Cho's face and kissed her deeply.

Ron spit out his juice all over Hermione, who had accidentally moved in his way. He wiped his mouth. "Thanks, Hermione."

A now drenched Hermione looked quite annoyed. "You're quite welcome, I'm sure," she said acidly.

Ron grinned obliviously.

Cho pushed Padma away and shook her head. "I am so sorry, Padma. So sorry. But you aren't the one I love either."

Ron pointed at Harry with a questioning look.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that Ron."

Cho slowly walked down the Ravenclaw table until she reached the younger students. "Luna, I have a confession to make."

Luna blinked in surprise.

"I know realize how silly and capricious I have been aught these many years at dear Hogwarts," Cho declared dramatically at the top of her lungs. "All those times I said horrible things or hurt you, it was because I was so jealous of your beauty and intelligence. I was mean because I loved you, Luna. I desperately hope you can forgive me and we can be together."

"I'm out of pumpkin juice," Ron realized in a panic. He slumped forward and sighed. "Oh, bugger."

Hermione smacked him on the back of his head.

Luna smiled beatifically and held a suddenly joyful Cho's hands. "Cho, I wish it was so simple."

Cho's expression crumbled.

"But like the other girls, I too have someone I care for that I must address," Luna explained matter-of-factly. "It would hardly be beautiful or intelligent of me not to follow my own heart, would it?"

Cho shook her head sadly and then burst into tears.

Luna got up from the Ravenclaw and serenely glided over to the Gryffindor table.

The Great Hall was absolutely silent; all eyes were on Luna Lovegood.

Luna stopped before Ron and Hermione and smiled brightly. "You know, it's always been you, with your magnificent brain and your intolerant attitude!"

"I don't think both of those are me," Ron said slowly. "So you mean Hermione?"

"Obviously, Ronald," Luna replied happily. "The question is whether or not she too has a different potential paramour."

"I'm afraid I do," Hermione said suddenly in realization. "And that love is right in front of me!"

Ron pointed to himself, then to Harry. Then back to himself. "It's one of us?" He didn't quite look like he knew how to feel about that.

"No!" Hermione shouted. "It is the one I have loved all along!" She grabbed a book from the table. "It's you, my darling!"

"Is that _Hogwarts: A History_?" Ron grumbled. "I suppose I should've known."

Harry grinned manically, having difficulty suppressing his mad giggling.

Hermione began to make out with the thick book, which began to get quite heated.

"Oh, come on then!" Ron protested. "You'll get a paper cut or something if you keep that up!"

"Albus!" Professor McGonagall shrieked, finally shocked out of her stunned stupor. "Do something!"

The Headmaster chuckled and looked happy. "I think it's quite wondrous that these young ladies are brave enough to admit such proclivities. In my day, such notions were not at all looked on with favor. I say we grant them all the very best of our thoughts."

"They've clearly been given some sort of potion, Albus!" Minerva sputtered.

"I must concur," a shell-shocked Snape agreed, trying to regain his composure.

"Enough!" McGonagall stormed over to the Gryffindor table. "This nonsense started at my table. Who's responsible?"

Harry laughed with glee. "Wow, Fred and George really outdid their selves this time, eh?"

The aforementioned Weasley twins blinked in surprise.

"Now, wait a moment," Fred said to forestall McGonagall's impeding fury. "We didn't do this business."

"And we're only visiting after all," George added. "End of the year and all. We aren't exactly, you know…"

"Students, right?" Fred pointed out. "We dropped out, didn't we?"

"If you think that's going to keep you from detention, you both are sadly mistaken! Up! Both of you! Let's go!"

Harry laughed evilly. All according to plan…

* * *

_Next Time_

Harry Initiates a Set of Horrible and Terrible Pranks That Cause Great Sorrow

But at least Harry will have a laugh about it


End file.
